TBF
by Mythaela
Summary: Frodo is violently abducted.
1. Abduction

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DISCLAIMER: I only own here the cringe-worthy idea of mixing celebrities and their fictional characters in with a SERIOUS story. Apart from that, all characters and places, I disclaim.

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A/N: This is more-or-less revised because I've added a little more in and merged chapters and so on. I seem to not find myself happy with the nickname I have given one of the _real_ people that have made themselves well known in this story, so I have been changing 'snippets' here and there, just to make the story not so… 'Eurgh. A FANGIRL'. You know what I mean. Anyway, I'll let you read on. And we start at the prologue, or a 'sneak peek' ^_^...

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PROLOGUE: 

Frodo did not know why he was so reluctant to leave Lorien; how he had grown to love it, there was no real answer. It was understandable that the place was indeed enchanting, even if it did carry a strange vibe, so that you constantly looked over your shoulder. Perhaps it was the knowing of seeking refuge there, after the terrible happenings of Moria. Perhaps it was the elves, or the Lady Galadriel. Frodo did not know what it was, but he had left Lorien, and he knew that he was reluctant in doing so.

In such a manner of deep thought, Frodo had not realised that he had wandered away from the rest of the Fellowship as they settled on the Eastern Shore. He struggled through the greenery of the forest, unaware of his situation. He had a distant feeling that somewhere in his head, that something was not right.

It was not until then that the sharp bite of reality came suddenly back to him when a cloak was thrown fiercely over his head.

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Read on...

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"Frodo…" 

It's the Ring... don't destroy it... let it be spared...

"Frodo… it wants it… yes it does… precioussssssss..." 

It was calling softly, lulling... then the word got louder, and louder. And louder…

"PRECIOUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS…"

It began to shriek… shriek until it felt like Frodo's brain was going to blow. It SCREAMED… until he could bear it no long-

"NO…!"

Frodo awoke with a start and sat up stiffly, raising a hand at the sudden light in his eyes. Several figures were around him; he could see their faces twisted in concern: Pippin, Merry, Sam, Legolas, Gimli... he just wanted to be left alone.

"What is it, halfling?" Legolas asked quietly. He ushered the others away and sat down beside Frodo. Frodo hesitated to show the Elf that he was in trouble, but Legolas' expression was of genuine concern. He began.

"I... heard it again... the ring... What did I do? Why was everyone standing over me like that?" Frodo realised he was still in Lorien.

"You were shouting in your sleep. Started shaking… like leaves… in Autumn…" Legolas' voice, as comforting as it was, did not have any effect on Frodo; it sounding almost as if he were in his own dream; he never usually spoke like that. He discovered that indeed, he was still shaking, and clutching the Ring tightly in his right hand and could not unclasp it.

"Maybe you should try and get some more rest. You'll feel better in the morning," Legolas suggested.

"I can't," Frodo replied blankly, "I _am_ very tired, but it… hurts… to sleep"; his own words puzzled him.

"Well then, think of The Shire, and of Bilbo, I know you are fond of him, and sleep will do you some good, Master Frodo."

"Yes, but still?" Legolas did not understand the damage of the Ring. He did not know that sleep would not do Frodo any good.

"Master Frodo, if my heart were not so troubled of grief, then I would attempt to comfort you more than I already have done. But we are all weary with fatigue and sorrow." Legolas looked down at this point, and Frodo felt guilty for expecting more from the wisdom of Legolas, especially after the passing of Gandalf. He spoke up.

"I'm sorry, Legolas: thank you. I should not have expected any more wisdom from you than already has been said. You can leave me in peace now, and come to terms with what you need," and then stopped inn wonderment as the elf's beset eyes started to brim with tears. He laid a hand on his shoulder, unable to think of anything to say.

"Thank you, Frodo" Legolas gave half a smile to him in the hope that Frodo would believe that all was right, and looked into his eyes, but Frodo only would tear his away; the anguish would also fall upon him as it did upon Legolas. Legolas blinked and arose with a sigh, and settled back down to his own slumber.

"Why..." Frodo asked himself, and once again wished that the Ring had never come to him.

He could not prise his own hand off of the Ring, and so, defeated by his own will, he sank back against the tree roots that he was resting against. He looked up towards the sky and shuddered, falling once again, into troubled sleep.

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*Four Days Later* 

Frodo did not know why he was so reluctant to leave Lorien; how he had grown to love it, there was no real answer. It was understandable that the place was indeed enchanting, even if it did carry a strange vibe, so that you constantly looked over your shoulder. Perhaps it was the knowing of seeking refuge there, after the terrible happenings of Moria. Perhaps it was the elves, or the Lady Galadriel. Frodo did not know what it was, but he had left Lorien, and he knew that he was reluctant in doing so.

In such a manner of deep thought, Frodo had not realised that he had wandered away from the rest of the Fellowship as they settled on the Eastern Shore. He struggled through the greenery of the forest, unaware of his situation. He had a distant feeling that somewhere in his head, that something was not right.

It was not until then that the sharp bite of reality came suddenly back to him when a cloak was thrown fiercely over his head.

The response from his muffled cry was one of the most terrifying answers he had ever received in his life yet.

"Quiet you, or those lovely blue eyes won't be the only thing I gouge," a smooth but dangerously calm, English voice sneered in reply.

"What- what are you doing!" Frodo cried as he managed to duck, and turned to face him.

He was tall and olive skinned, dressed respectfully but for a travel-stained cloak, his hazel coloured eyes stared in anger and hatred for the hobbit. Frodo's hand flew to the hilt of his sword as the man advanced, towering above the 3"10 hobbit. The man drew a smaller thinner blade; it was grey, purple and rusted at the hilt, but with a poisonous black blade that Frodo knew only too well.

"Eru... a Morgul-" He stammered to himself, backing away slightly.

"Just the one." The man smiled flagitiously to himself and jabbed the Morgul Blade forward mockingly, as though to scare the halfling. Frodo raised his Elven sword, Sting, in defence and his free hand flew to his left shoulder.

"What do you want?" Frodo raised his head and tried to look the man in the eye, but the powerful stare met him and his eyes faltered.

"Look, let's be straight" the man began, tauntingly casual, "you're a 'pretty boy'". Frodo remained confused. The man imitated a young girl's voice, "Ooh look it's Frodo Baggins! Isn't he _sooo_ cute?" He returned to his normal chilling voice, "I. Don't. Like. People. Like. You. I have a career to uphold, and YOU! You are standing in the way. Fucking hobbits. ALWAYS HAVE TO BE THE ONE STEP CLOSER. And look… oblivious… so I am going to get rid of you." He stepped forward, once again towering over Frodo, sneering at him. Frodo stepped back and stifled a cry of terror. Still, he managed to recover his senses.

"Wh- Who are you?" He stammered, petrified.

"Who am I… WHO AM I?! The man yelled once again, but realised that he was flying off the handle for no reason, and stepped back. Once again, in his sneering voice, he replied:

"Just call me Orli."

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A/N: More coming soon! ****


	2. Clues of Danger

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DISCLAIMER: I only own here the cringe-worthy idea of mixing celebrities and their fictional characters in with a SERIOUS story. Apart from that, all characters and places, I disclaim.

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A/N: A few reviews already. Thanks for your time!

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Frodo yelled as loud as he could, in hope that maybe one of the Fellowship might have wandered too, but a strong hand clamped his mouth shut as he was wrestled to the ground. Sting lay three feet to the side of him; he'd dropped it in terror, and could not reach for it now.

"Shut it hobbit, or you'll know what's coming when it greets you right in the eye!" 

He tapped the Morgul Blade on the hilt to indicate to Frodo. This man, Orli, stuffed a dirtied rag into Frodo's mouth and wrapped him tightly in his own Elven cloak. He fastened one side of Frodo's Elven broach to his cloak, and then searched for wherever else to pin it. 

Telling from the smirk as an idea came to him, it was obvious it was not something that wouldn't hurt him. Orli forced the pin of the brooch through the skin of the upper side of Frodo's hand, and pushed it upwards so that it pierced the skin on the other side. A muffled cry came from Frodo as the pain shot up his arm like an arrow and hacked into his shoulder blade like an axe. Orli clasped the brooch shut, and leaned forward to admire his 'handiwork', ironically.

"There. We won't dare to move, will we?" A satisfied Orli smiled at Frodo.

"Aragorn will HAVE YOU for this!" Frodo cried as he struggled against the unbearable pain.

"Aragorn," His eyes flashed dangerously. "We'll have to have a little chat with him soon, won't we just?"

"What?" Frodo was confused. He… knew Aragorn? Frodo thought as Orli picked him up around his middle and carried him to the boat, like a parcel.

"Oh you won't understand, halfling. We go _way_ back, way back..." Orli sniggered to himself as they approached the river. There in the clearing was a small boat, one that he had probably stolen from the other Fellowship. Yes, he could just spot Sam's piece of silver Elven rope. He flinched as Orli carelessly threw him into the boat like some piece of unneeded luggage, then jumped in himself and started rowing away swiftly, down the River Anduin.

"Meanwhile, before the rest of the cretins I suppose you'll be travelling with catch up, we'll have some fun, won't we? Yeah… just you and me…" Orli said quietly: almost to himself in fact, as he pushed out the boat and jumped on board as it rocked dangerously. Frodo didn't know what that meant, but it didn't sound good, and he closed his eyes in despair, and to fight the pain in his hand. He heard Orli speak.

"You don't know what it's like, being surrounded by people that practically worship people like you... you wouldn't know, it's like- like _drowning_..."

It was confusing; one moment Orli's a menace and the next... this had to be for a purpose, not necessarily an enjoyable one either. But for now, Frodo began to see a side for which he felt empathy for, even if it was a pathetic case, which he dare not speak aloud. It was some time before Frodo realised Orli has stopped rowing, and was floating down the river.

"Wh-where are we going?" Frodo asked quietly.

"No where, for now," Orli turned around in the boat, to face Frodo, looking dangerously calm again, but fidgeting slightly.

"Now, let's see…" He lifted Frodo and turned him around in the boat, to find the brooch. He took it off of the cloak carefully, but when it came to Frodo's wrist… he forced the needle upwards and breaking the skin completely in a long line of blood that appeared almost instantly. Frodo shrieked as the pain renewed itself once again, and he felt his arm go numb, knowing that the cold wasn't helping. Orli unwrapped the cloak that was tightly bound around him and sat the dazed hobbit up in the boat, but pinned his arms to his sides and lifted him once again.

"Now. Now you can see what it's like: literally, physically," Frodo remained confused, but still, this was _not_ good, "Like drowning." 

With that, Orli threw Frodo out of the boat before he barely had time to realise what he meant, but held onto his ankles and pushed his head down into the cold. Frodo kicked and splashed with all his might. The salt water seeped into the wound in his wrist, causing it to sting with an unbearable agony as he thrashed in the freezing water until his lungs burst. His energy had left him, and he hung limp, Orli still clasping his ankles.

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The Fellowship were resting silently at Amon Hen. Most had fallen asleep, apart from a bored Sam, who was tapping his foot and frowning at the steadily amplifying snores of Pippin and Merry. Gimli, who was left to watch across the Western Shore, grumbled under his breath and sincerely wished he hadn't protested at Aragorn's order of resting. Suddenly, Sam fidgeted, glancing around and noticed that the corner where Frodo was meant to be sleeping was guarded from view with a shield. Sam leant forward and pulled at the heavy armour. It fell forward onto dust. _There was no Frodo_. He jumped up and looked about himself.

"...where's Mr. Frodo?" he asked Gimli. Gimli shrugged. Sam began to call his name. No answer. His face became full of concern. Soon the whole Fellowship were unsettled, and they began a search for him.

Aragorn, as rangers do, found some small, light foot prints in the soil, most definitely that of a hobbit. He followed them closely, until he saw that larger, heavier footprints were paced behind the footprints, then a gap, then a mixture of footprints pacing out in many directions, as if a scuffle had taken place. Finally, just the large prints remained, heading toward the bank, where they stopped at the water. On the floor was a small box. 

Aragorn called the fellowship, and together they inspected the box. It was a small, black wooden box, small in stature and painted in black.

"What's inside it? Are there any clues?" Sam waited anxiously. Aragorn peered at it, but left it closed. No finger-marks...

"Well… open it then!" Gimli cried impatiently.

"Oh- just give it here!" Legolas snatched the box from Aragorn. Everyone stared at Legolas, shocked at his outburst as he inspected the contents. Inside was a large mess of torn up paper and a note; the note read-

'_Cretins,_

Where's your halfling now? Don't bother looking, you'll never find him. He will be DESTROYED. Ha!

Your loving friend, Orli. XxX'

"Oh… eru…" Legolas turned to Aragorn and said something in Elvish. Aragorn gasped and quickly took the note and read it for himself. Pippin, who did not understand fully what this meant, said loudly, "what else is in the box?" cheerfully as Legolas peered into it.

"It's… it's… some kind of puzzle." He took the torn pieces of paper, and positioned them into a picture.

It was a drawn picture of Frodo, with a large, red cross stabbed over him.

"Oh, my-" Legolas dropped the box in shock, but then ran towards the shore. The fellowship stared at each other in total bewilderment, until they heard a voice call back.

"ONE OF THE BOATS ARE GONE!" then Legolas cursed in Elvish.

He pushed out yet another boat and set off down the Anduin. Only Aragorn knew what was to happen, but he ushered the fellowship into the rest of the boats and told them to follow, with a 'what's going on?' from Pippin ever now and then.

The only noise was a slight splashing on the river, and the sound of Sam choking and snuffling as the night greeted them.

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A/N: That's it for Chapter Two! More coming soon, I promise you.


	3. Boiling Nightmares

A/N: A chapter three is up (here :P) you might not understand the beginning but believe me, you will understand later on in the story. Maybe even in this chapter if you're clever enough.

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There it was again. That voice …voice of what?

"Frodo…" 

He tried in vain to peer into the gloom, but the voice began surrounding him, beating him down, and forcing him to the ground. He covered his ears and tried to block out the sound, but it was no use. 

"FRODO. COME MY PRECIOUSSSSS…"

The hissing grew to an unbearable shrieking, beating down on his eardrums and filling his head. He shut his eyes as hard as he could, but even like that, it was just too much. Suddenly, he had the urge to open them again, so he did. His eyes grew wide with shock. For there, a face lit up. It smiled an evil smile. It shrieked so loud, he felt sure his head would burst. It was Orli. The smile suddenly disappeared and…

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH…"

Frodo woke with a start. The nightmares again. He sat up. Where was he now? His blurred vision was not much use, but he could hear someone in front of him. The reality shot back to him once again. His head suddenly became clear, as a bucket of ice cold water was thrown over him and he jumped.

"Hello, my precious. How are we this morning? Two days you were out cold. Two days! Oh well, time for some more fun soon."

Frodo shivered and wiped the water out of his eyes. The cold was biting into him. He raised his hands to pull his damp cloak more tightly around him, but felt a sudden pain. His hand was swollen and red. Orli sat in front of him cross-legged, smirking.

"What do you want?" Frodo asked one more time, a little hoarsely.

"Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no answers. Ask me questions, and I'll give you 'answers'" attempting to be cryptic. It didn't make sense anyhow. Frodo thought it best to be getting on with his question. 

"Yes, but I _am_ asking a question." 

Frodo could not put up with this mysterious talk any longer. He looked down as so to not see the expression on Orli's face. It would just unnerve him. A flickering fire caught his eye to the right of Orli.

"What did you say, hobbit?"

The voice became angry, but Frodo knew he had to stand up to Orli, whether he liked it or not: to save himself. Or would that kill him?

"I said, I _am_ asking you a question. What do you _want_?" 

Frodo's voice grew with a little confidence and he noticed that the slight whimper in his voice had gone. Orli's expression changed from angry to even more menacing. He grinned.

"DON'T you speak to me like that, halfling. You know perfectly well what I'm doing. I'm here to teach you a lesson!" Orli smiled. "And now here's you next,"

He leant back and unhooked a kettle-like appliance that was boiling over a fire. And stood up so that he would have an upper hand. He walked over slowly to Frodo, holding it up and letting him see the steam.

"Oh eru…" Frodo shifted quickly over to one side just as Orli let a steaming splash of water fall from the spout. Thankfully, It just missed him.

"Oh _eru really now_…"

Orli stepped to the other side, and let another drop splash down. This caught Frodo's cloak. Frodo yelped as he watched his cloak burn, and bit his lip to jump up so he could move out of harm's way.

"Standing up eh?" Orli jeered. "Ooh, big strong hobbit, I see. Weren't like this when we were whimpering in our sleep, huh..."

The two stood staring challengingly into each other's eyes for a moment, a peculiar sight to see a hobbit and a man dare each other... until Orli suddenly leant down, grabbed Frodo's sore hand, and jammed his thumb into the spout of the boiling kettle. 

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An echoing cry rang from the forest.


	4. Familiar Reunions

A/N: Chapter four. We now come back to the Fellowship.

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The fellowship had been rowing tirelessly all night, and Sam had no more tears left to cry. His sorrow had even had an impact on Pippin, who had just realised the situation after countless times of being explained it to by Merry, while at the same time Merry was trying to comfort Sam and row the boat at the same time. Pippin was whimpering slightly by now.

Leading in the front boat was Legolas, deep in thought. Aragorn was gently paddling his oar and steering the boat forwards. Suddenly, a screech from behind made him look sharply up.

"What is it Gimli?" he barked, quite alarmed at the sudden disturbance.

"Boromir made me get my beard wet! Make him stop or I shall have to stop him myself!" Gimli whined.

"Boromir, stop. Don't make things difficult," Legolas sighed unconsciously and looked out over the river.

"He started it!" Boromir shouted stubbornly, causing Gimli to nudge him to stay quiet and to cause a minor scuffle in the boat.

No answer.

"Legolas? Hello! Calling the elf down to Middle Earth!"

Still no answer. 

Legolas only looked towards the bank sharply, then sighed and bowed his head again.

"Legolas? What is it?" Aragorn whispered as he kept a hold on the oar to slow down the boat.

"Oh nothing… it's just… I thought I heard Frodo, or something… wait-" he looked up towards the Eastern Shore quickly again.

"What? What do your elf eyes see?" Aragorn asked again.

"There _is_ something there," Legolas whispered and gestured for the fellowship to duck in their boats. Legolas crouched down and pulled out his bow. He quietly slotted an arrow into position; the fellowship could now hear muffled shouts of anger from somewhere on the shore. Then silence. Suddenly, a branch snapped.

"There!" Aragorn pointed and Legolas quickly shot. A yell of surprise came from inside the bush, but the arrow went straight into the tree, as to scare whoever it was.

"It doesn't look anything dangerous," he whispered to himself, "Come out. Now! You are surrounded." He cried to the shore. Silence.

"Come out now! You are surrounded!" Aragorn called again impatiently. Then slowly, a pair of luminous wide blue eyes peered from under the leaves. If given a different situation, this would almost be comical.

"What do you want?" It asked.

"Come down, out of there! We've caught you in the act. Show yourself!" Legolas yelled while crouching.

"NO!" the reply was.

"Out now, or I shall have to spear!" Legolas called again.

"What?"

"Do you want me to say this in a different language? Do you not understand the common speech? You are speaking it yourself!"

"I'm not coming out-- Legolas?" the eyes stared wide in amazement.

Legolas suddenly looked suspiciously, "Who are you? And how do you know me?"

"That is business that I think your… companions would find boring and wouldn't need to know anyway!"

"How do you know us? Are you a spy?"

"Who, me? No! I'll prove it," the person climbed out of the bush with some difficulty, cursing as he went. He stood up and walked out to the shore. He was dressed in black, but his wide eyes were a sky blue and he had untidy short brown hair. He would have been smart if the bush had not dishevelled him.

"What-" Legolas furrowed his brow, "_Elijah_? But- how? It's been such a long time!" he grinned slightly in surprise.

"I know," 'Elijah' nodded, "and what's wrong with… him… and him?" Elijah waved a hand toward the boat that Merry was steering.

"Get into the boat and I'll explain on the way, unless you have business?" Legolas raised an eyebrow as he steered the boat towards the shore.

"Me? No. I've 'retired' for years... budge up, then please!" Elijah laughed as he climbed into the boat. He turned around, and his eyes darted from each member of the Fellowship to the next… "hi."

The rest of the Fellowship gasped and stared in such surprise that Sam nearly fell out in his boat, "Frodo!" Sam cried, and looked so hopeful that you felt sorry for him.

Elijah became confused, "Fro... do? I'm sorry, you got the wrong—"

"Oh." He looked disappointed and worried again.

"What's up with them? And who's…" he hesiated at the name "…Ffrrrodo?" Elijah asked Legolas.

"I'll explain on the way." Legolas murmured back to him as they passed on through the river Anduin once more.

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Another chapter soon, and it might be a tad late. :S Sorry if so.


	5. Oars and Temptations

A/N: When coming to revise this chapter, I read through the original ideas and, do you know what? I thought them extremely poor indeed. It disgusted me. iNothing had a purpose/i. All the events were carelessly woven through a careless plot. So, I have attempted to make a special effort with this chapter. I have found that I need to tie up some loose ends throughout the revision of this story. If any of you had read the previous version, I sincerely hope you read this and think it much better than the chapter before scratch that, please endeavour to blank the chapter from your memory, even!   
  
  
  
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Frodo came to his senses, and shuddered under his cloak. Judging by the uneasy ground that he was settled on, he could tell that they were travelling again; He could hear Orli whistling to himself, as he rowed. His hand was numb, but comfortable and nestled under his chin albeit the swelling, grazed, scarlet, blistered and peeling skin that had the appearance of fire. And it was paralysed. But at least it was numb. He closed his eyes.  
  
  
  
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Drifting into unconscious thought again, he surveyed his recent nightmares. Suddenly, the visions of Orli, peering out of that darkness seething again nearly retrained his mind into a frenzied phantasm once more, but this time, he managed to fight the notions off, and hurled his energy into the concentration of striving to drowse off without apprehension. Instead, he thought of Bilbo, and of The Shire and the Party Tree. And then, his thoughts scanned back to his stay in the Old Forest, with Tom Bombadil, and the fun they had at Frodo's new house before setting off on their quest, in Buckland. Then he thought back to the Elves in Rivendell, and his previous convalescence with his Morgul wound.  
  
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Then, he cast his memory back to the original Fellowship; his heart sank as he thought of his kinsman, of Sam, Merry and Pippin. He thought of Gandalf's fall in Moria. He thought of Aragorn, and Boromir, of Legolas and Gimli. Where were they right now? iCertainly not continuing with the quest, /iFrodo believed.i They may be searching for me now; they may be dead; they might believe me dead, and could be making their way back to Rivendell with the news that they 'lost me', and be contemplating their appending doom of the return of Sauron./i Frodo preferred to believe the latter. He was deserted and perplexed, split with his companions, cursed to the watch of this flagitious Man forever, until he begged for demise. And even then, Orli would presumably prefer to hold back his final wish until he was ibored/i. Frodo let out a broken sigh and felt the tears rising in his lids. He fought them back, and shifted slightly for comfort. It was no use; he felt a sob rise in his throat, but just then, Orli noticed him.   
  
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"Hallo, Frodo..." Orli began, in an intensely suspicious tone; it was almostisweet/i. Frodo suspected a twist in this isoft touch/i, so he refrained from a reply, and stayed silent, huddled under his cloak, daring not to breathe. Orli waited a few moments, and became questionable about the hobbit's state of activity himself, "Are you awake?"   
  
  
  
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Frodo knew he had to speak before Orli realised he was in no quiescent state, but instead vigilant. At last, he stirred and mumbled in response. Orli simpered, and nudged Frodo, propelling him back into actuality, "Good," Orli stated brightly, then turned cold in words, "Then row" and he launched a heavy wooden oar a-top of him. The end slapped him on the head.  
  
  
  
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Frodo winced and decided it best (and least painful) if he followed Orli's orders as much as his strength would allow him to. He struggled from the warmth of his Elven cloak and gingerly reaching for the oar, he let it slide in the water and began to row. Gripping the handle, he managed to row strongly for a short time, but the discomfort in his hand began to worsen and soon it became painstaking. He slowed down, to ease the distress, but alas; Orli soon noticed that Frodo had stopped completely, cautiously stroking his hand, flinching as he did so.  
  
  
  
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Orli twisted around in the boat to get an improved view of Frodo's 'indolence' and became irked at his dawdling, "Hey, ihalfling/i. Did I not ask you to row? So do it. Now!" Orli grunted in antipathy.  
  
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Frodo abruptly became candidly irate at this comment, and could hold in his hostility no longer "I iam/i rowing, but it just happens that it is more istrenuous because of your malcontent at my happiness/i. It seems that the injury iyou/i caused me, is holding me back!" Frodo turned his head the other way and winced at the aggression that those words would bring him.  
  
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Orli began to retaliate, but halted. He stopped rowing, and spun round in the boat to confront the hobbit, so that the boat oscillated and sent water spraying into it. He frowned and his hazel eyes grew dark in frustration, "It's not your injury, it's that you're ibone idle/i! You think a couple of strokes of the oar makes you 'diligent'? And please, refrain from accusing my injuries to you, because you know perfectly well that you brought it onto yourself! And take that attitude, halfling," he moved forward toward the hobbit, "and you can get out of this boat and paddle yourself."  
  
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Frodo frowned and glanced toward the water. It crashed against the boat in wrath, frothing threatening, "No... I'll row..." he began, but Orli had already developed a colossal temper, and he still would not take kindly to Frodo's remarks earlier on. He grew red in the face, and his eyes narrowed dangerously.  
  
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Orli shot a stalwart arm out to yank the scruff of Frodo's shirt, "You'll do as you're told, and I'm now going to tell you to iget out/i and paddle yourself, if it's hurting you ithati much!" Orli snatched the scruff and threateningly jabbed it forward, so that Frodo jolted forwards and knocked his elbows on the boat. His eyes pierced through Frodo's lids (he had shut them tight, out of alarm) for a response.  
  
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Then, slowly, Orli saw two large, glassy, sapphire eyes under the eyelids. Frodo lifted his head, shivering slightly, and looked straight back at Orli, unsure of his next actions. Then, Frodo formed his words slow and clear, "Or what?" he stated. Orli cocked his head to the right, and smirked.  
  
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"Poor, poor halfling..." he feigned a sigh, ridiculing the hobbit, "What sort of an answer are you looking for? You know what happens to creatures who - idisobey/i..." and let go of the scruff of Frodo's shirt, settling back in the boat as it began to drift toward the shore. Frodo narrowed his eyes in bewilderment, and then murmured as he realised what the man meant.  
  
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"Are you going to kill me?" Frodo responded with no hint of apprehension, an inquiry that sent a tremor down Orli's spine, "Would you kill me right here, when you know ifull well/i of what I carry? Would you take it for yourself?" Frodo extended an arm toward his neck, and grasped an object on a golden chain. Tracing the object with his index and middle finger, he reached behind his shirt and lifted the chain up to surface The One Ring. Orli stared in wonderment as the glistening band of gold; he could almost hear it whispering his name...  
  
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Succeeding to grasping his sense once more, Orli shook his head and spoke to the hobbit sharply, "You speak too much; far too much, for your own good. It's imouthy/i of you, indeed. Yes... I could kill you outright if I wished..." Orli glanced at the ring that Frodo had cupped in his hand. It was almost offering itself to him...  
  
dt  
  
"Is it that you want the ring? …is that why I'm here?" And Frodo held out the One Ring for him; he was igiving/i him the ring… iWAIT/i, Orli thought. iThis is all a trick. He wants me to take it./i  
  
dt  
  
He tore his eyes away from the band of gold and yelled, enraged. Frodo was startled at the sudden noise, but still held the One Ring toward Orli. Orli snarled, "How could you think that I'm so ivulnerable/i? I'll have nothing to do with that bloody ring! The cheek of you, halfling!" Orli was so angry he snatched his oar and aimed a blow at Frodo's hand containing the Ring. Frodo saw what was coming, and his eyes grew wide in dread and he quickly slid the ring back under his shirt as the paddle caught him on the elbow. He yelped and shrunk back.  
  
dt  
  
But Orli was not finished. He hated the halfling. iHe hated him, for all it was worth/i. Frodo was right. iHe wanted to kill him/i... he swivelled the oar backwards and fired another blow at the hobbit's head. It hit him on his right temple, and Frodo cried out at the oar's smash.  
  
dt  
  
"Now..." Orli breathed heavily, "I told you... to get out and paddle... so PADDLE!" he hurled another shot at the hobbit's shoulder, painfully striving to prompt him into going overboard. Frodo curled up to avoid the blows, but they were extremely heavy and his head was aching, glancing over the side of the boat once more, he took one look at the foaming, cloudy liquid and refused.  
  
dt  
  
Orli's temper grew to its peak. "I SAID PADDLE!" and Orli took Frodo's oar as well, and cracked it against Frodo's head again. The wooden oar split through the middle. Frodo yelled in agony, clutching the back of his head, and promptly slumped against the back of the boat once more. Orli breathed heavily, trying to calm his nerves, and glared at the hobbit's body, panting.  
  
dt 


	6. The Riders of Rohan

Chapter Six...

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The three small canoes sidled up the River Andúin in the darkness. 

Three beings kept watch in the first boat, and quietly spoke in the Sindarin tongue. 

A man and dwarf argued in the second, and four small, quiet, saddened hobbits were in the third and last, with one hobbit rowing. 

The words translated from Aragorn, Legolas and Elijah in the first boat were- 

"So he's been missing for four days? And you have been paddling up the river ever since looking for him?" 

Elijah was quiet not to stir the rest of the fellowship. "Boy, you sure care about the little guy." 

"He carries something... special to us. The hobbit, Samwise, is worried sick of Frodo." Legolas whispered. 

"An hour after his disappearance, we found this." Aragorn retrieved the box from his pack and gave it to Elijah.

Elijah glared at the box, then took it and opened it quickly. He was not surprised with the sickening contents inside, but shuddered at the horrid picture. His eyes narrowed, and he quickly put the contents back, shut the lid quickly and closed his eyes, after giving the box back to Aragorn, who swiftly hid it back into the folds of his cloak.

"There's no need to investigate who did... this" Elijah said. 

"And you are heading to...?" 

"A small place near Isengard" Aragorn murmured, "That's where the incident occurred last time; it is most possible he is there again." 

"Uh-huh..." Legolas watched the Shore thoughtfully. "How many more days until we reach the Shore near Isengard?" 

"I would say..." Aragorn paused, "Two more days, at the most. If we hurry, we can get there by tonight." 

  
"OK." Elijah whispered. 

Legolas stood up in his boat. 

"Please! Everyone!" He addressed them all. "We haven't lost hope yet!" Lets keep moving- fast, and if we hurry, we can reach our destination by tonight. SO let's keep moving!" 

At once every boat began speeding along the Andúin. Legolas sat down exhausted. 

"Legolas, you haven't slept in two days!" Aragorn said, "Please! Get some sleep. Elijah and I will keep a look out for prowling orcs and anything else." 

At once, Legolas went to sleep, and all was quiet, save for the small cries of "Hey, don't push me!" from the boat behind.

The hobbits huddled together for comfort, and the canoes sailed into the night.

They rowed for another hour or two, and heard no noise. It was all quiet- too quiet...

Legolas awoke suddenly. He could feel that something was not right. Elijah stirred and looked up at him, confused, but then he too, heard and snapped his head up towards the shore. Boromir and Gimli had stopped arguing, and the hobbits stirred too. Aragorn's free hand was resting on his sword hilt.

They could here voices. And the sound of hooves, made by horses. Legolas once again signalled for them to duck in their boats. Elijah's eyes shone with a light blue by the moonlight, and he watched anxiously.

A tall man on a horse appeared, and he spotted the boats.

"Get up." Elijah commanded quietly.

Legolas stared at him like he was mad, but he was soon to be reassured.

"It's all right." Elijah whispered to Legolas and Aragorn. "They can help us. It's the riders of Rohan."


	7. Struggling from Death

Chapter Eight! At last, my friends... soon you will be served a Demonic Kiwi on a silver platter cut up into quarters... wonderful anger management classes in 'Grapefruits Anonymous', you know...

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Frodo looked up and peered into the gloom. There it was again. He could hear something. He edged forwards, only slowly. There was something there...

"Hello?" he called.

No answer. Something was crouching low, with a cloak over its head. There was a pale blue light coming from under the cloak. Frodo crawled towards it, calling.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" he said timidly, his small voice drifting through the dim. He reached the- thing, and held out a hand.

It threw the cloak off of its head and turned around sharply. It was an orc. Its piercing scream sliced through the darkness like knives. Frodo jumped back and yelled in terror. The orc changed to Orli and he stood, leering. Then came the terrible hissing.

"PRECIOUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS..."

Frodo hastily put the ring on, hoping that it would all end. Almost at once a blinding light appeared and he shielded his eyes. There, instead of Orli, was a ringwraith. It carried a Morgul Blade. It advanced towards Frodo slowly, raising the blade, getting ready to strike. Frodo cried out in fright. The Morgul Blade sank into his left shoulder. He clutched his shoulder in agony and jolted in disbelief. Scarlet blood oozed slowly between his fingers. Through the pain, he noticed that he still had the ring on. Shakily he pulled it off with difficulty, but he could not open his eyes. For some one was hissing loudly in his ear like thunder...

"PRECIOUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS..."

Frodo awoke with a start, and bumped his head again on the side of a tree. His wrists were bound and his head was throbbing. He looked up wearily. There was a blurred image of Orli. He was cooking something, but looked up. Strangely, his cold staring eyes were clear, but everything else was blurred. He stood up, towering over Frodo, who was laying on the ground. He spoke something, but Frodo couldn't here. But then the terrible hissing came again.

"Are you ready my PRECIOUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS...?"

Frodo yelled and bumped his head on the side of the tree. His vision suddenly became clear. There was Orli again, towering over him in the same position.

"Hey you. No time for little nightmares. Get up." He went round the back of the tree and cut the binding round his wrists. Frodo's head still throbbed with weariness and pain. Orli pulled him to his feet by his cloak.

"I can get up by myself." Frodo said wearily, but he didn't pay too much attention.

Orli dragged him along at an alarming speed. Frodo noticed he had left his pack behind.

"Where are we going?!" Frodo asked alarmed as he stumbled over the rocks. He could here rushing water somewhere in front of him.

"You want to know? Isengard." Orli sneered.

"Isengard!? We can't go there!" Frodo cried.

"Yeah well we are." Orli looked smug. "And the sooner we get there, the better."

Oh eru, Frodo thought. They'll find the ring. The quest will have failed. And I'll be doomed to die. Oh Sam. I wish he were here. He'd get rid of Orli.

Sure enough, they came to a large rushing river.

"We're crossing. Now. So get ready." Orli dragged Frodo to the edge of the bank. The river would reach Orli's waist. But Frodo would surely drown. It was too deep for him.

"We can't!" Frodo cried. "We'll be killed!"

"Correction." Orli muttered. "I'll survive easily. You'll be lucky to get away with sever head injuries, if you put it like that."

Frodo looked down. There was a small sword rushing down with the current. It came to a rock above the surface. And snapped. Frodo cringed. Suddenly, he was pushed from behind, and fell into the deep with a start. He hit his head sharply on the river-bed and pushed upwards to try and reach the surface.

He felt Orli jump in next to him and dragged him along under the water. Frodo started to run out of air. He needed to surface, but Orli dragged him down, as well as the current. He slowly began to choke under the water. It filled his lungs steadily. He became faint and let the current and Orli take him. He felt cold and hungry. The water was claiming his life...

Frodo coughed and spluttered. They were on the other side of the river at last. He lay on the floor, and Orli sat next to him, his hand lay on Frodo's chest. Frodo tried to sit up.

"Finally awake are you? You just can't stand a little water, can you?" Orli snapped. "I had to revive you, and what do you give me? Nothing."

"Wait." Frodo said. "You could have just left me for dead. Why didn't you?"

"Because you have something. Something special. That is why we go to Isengard."

"You- you know? How?" Frodo became alarmed. "How long have you known?"

"Since yesterday." Orli replied. "Your chain fell from around your neck while you were asleep. Can't let you die now, can we? You'll just have to bear the burden. We'll drop it off at Isengard. Give it to Saruman. Then you'll have nothing to worry about." Orli was being sarcastic. Suddenly, he threw a cup of cold water over him.

"Now get up." Orli stood up and pulled him by his arm. "We should be at Isengard by night fall."

"But- we can't! I need to destroy the ring!" Frodo shouted, his confidence coming back.

"Do you know what?! I should have let you die! Now come ON!" Orli picked him up by the scruff of his neck and threw him over his shoulder and Orli walked off into the woods.

"You can't! You can't" Frodo yelled and kicked until he was hoarse. It was getting dark. He suddenly realised he was exhausted, and fell asleep again.


	8. A Staff is Broken

Here is Chapter Nine for ya'll. Hope you all enjoy it!

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"Stand up and surrender yourselves!" that rider called out on the bank. Terrified, the four hobbits, Boromir and Gimli stood up shakily in their canoes.

"You there! First boat! Stand up!"

No one moved for a while, but then Aragorn stood up, hand on his sword hilt, and then Legolas- ready to fire his bow and arrow.

"Is that all?" he said suspiciously. "Everyone!"

"OK! Fine! We surrender!" Elijah, with a hint of sarcastic humour in his voice, stood up.

"Elijah?" Eomer was astounded, "What are you doing here? I thought you went back across the sea!"

"No," Elijah smiled, "I hung around for a while. This is Legolas and Aragorn. In the second boat is Boromir and the dwarf is Gimli. Third boat you'll find…" his voice faltered and he paused, "Meriadoc, Peregrin and Samwise!" He said boldly.

"Can we please pull the boats in?" Legolas asked Eomer.

"Yes," Eomer replied, "But go steady."

Other riders, who had joined Eomer, soon pulled in the boats. But the disappearance of Frodo had yet to be explained. 

Legolas, Boromir and Elijah explained the matter, while the rest gathered the packs in the boat.

"So the hobbit is lost you say? Kidnapped?" Eomer contemplated the situation, "But- why would a small hobbit matter so great?"

"He carries something- dear to us," Legolas tried to explain.

"I see… well I have heard some strange things while travelling around… cries and a very… disturbed man shouting," Eomer thought.

This was some hope.

"How long ago was that?" asked Aragorn, joining the conversation, "What was the last you heard?"

"Well… we heard two people fighting in a boat yesterday, one small voice and a large one. Sounded like it belonged to a man. Could the hobbit be the small one?" Eomer asked, "It was down the bank not far from here."

"It was?" Boromir said, "Well there is still some hope left I suppose,"

"We are afraid that we cannot reach them in time. They are fast ascending down the river. Close to Isengard. If the hobbit gets too close…" Elijah pondered, "Then I don't know what could become of Frodo."

"I have an idea," Eomer looked up, "What if we were to give you some horses. Maybe you could reach them in time, if you head towards Isengard by the way that the crow flies,"

"Possibly…" Legolas thought, "Would you do that for us?"

"Of course. We have spare horses."

"Thank you sir. We owe you a great favour."

Eomer brought down some horses- Elijah and Pippin were allocated a light, fast white horse, Boromir, much to his disapproval, was allocated with Gimli upon a stout chestnut horse, Aragorn and Merry upon a smaller yet fast grey horse, and Legolas and Sam aboard an ebony black stallion.

They rode off into the darkness, with Eomer and his men trailing behind.

They travelled all night, but at dawn the horses had run enough, and everyone settled down to sleep, with Gimli on watch. 

All was quiet. Gimli had started to nod his head slightly, when something caught his eye. He looked up sharply, there was a small creature, hiding out there, with pale, blue eyes shining bright as the sun rose. It muttered to itself, and just as Gimli was about to approach, it scampered away.

He decided to pass the experience off as a particularly large squirrel, and kept it to himself. 

At midday, they ate a small breakfast and headed off again to Isengard. It grew darker as they approached, and they saw the gleaming black tower of Orthanc as they drew near.

They would not have noticed some one dragging a small being out and upon seeing them, turning the opposite way. Had they have known, they would have rode straight on, but even with Legolas' keen elven eyes, they did not see.

Presently, Aragorn noticed that someone was riding towards them, on a gleaming white horse that shone pale in the dim. They skidded to a halt.

"Is some one there?" Legolas called. It rode straight for them.

"STOP!"

Aragorn called, but it was no use. They were about to turn around on their own horses, when a beam of light shot out from something that the person was holding. It rested on Aragorn's face. He was paralysed to move.

The rider came closer and closer. No one dared move. He was dressed completely in white, from head to toe and drew closer every second.

"Halt Shadowfax!" He cried, and skidded to a halt.

The fellowship were astounded. For they knew who he was…

"Gandalf?!" 


	9. Acidic Evil

Couple of things before:

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Robin Gurl's Insane: First up. I LOVE the name (and the way you insanely talk between yourselves.) Thanks for the review- and I will update, I promise!

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Tathar: Hi! How's 'What Could Possibly Happen?' coming along? Again, thanks for the review!

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Jewel of the Twilight: ???? You trying to freak us out? '::Sitting in her chair, looking evil:: He knows. He always knows. :'. Ya, I'll update.

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Orlijah Bloomwood: You think my story's weird and twisted? Good for you! Yay!

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Shirebound: Can you really die of suspense? Oh. Yeah, the torture thing. My poor Frodo! I don't know how I can do it to him MYSELF! I don't 'torture' him in all o my things ya know though. In 'He's Got The URGE!' he seems pretty happy I s'pose. Anyway, thanks!

Ok, I shut up now.

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"Gandalf?" Everyone was astounded. 

"Gandalf!" 

Pippin fell off his horse with awe and happiness. 

"Stop dithering you Fool of a Took!" The rider said, "Now get up!" 

"Mithrandir!" Aragorn called, "Something terrible has happened!" 

"What is it?" Gandalf frowned and signalled for the group to continue when Pippin had been sat tightly back on his horse. 

"It's Frodo." 

Gandalf went pale. "What has happened?" 

"He's been kidnapped." 

"How could this have happened?" Gandalf cried, "Do- do you know who it is?" 

"We have an idea," Legolas rode up next to them, 

"But-" Gandalf stopped. He already knew who it was, "I see... when did he leave you?" 

"Five days ago. Maybe there is still hope." 

They were fast approaching Isengard. The shadowed Tower of Orthanc stood tall and proud. Some of the riders shrank back in terror. 

"Do not be alarmed!" Gandalf reasurred the as they rode, "The Ents have taken care of most of the enemy." 

As they approached Isengard, an ent named Treebeard cam to greet them. 

"Hoom hm...", the ent called to them. The hobbits stared in awe at this creature. 

It looked very much like a tree, but with long arms and many branched fingers. It's hair was green and bright with foliage, and it had slow, green eyes. 

"Gandalf. Glad to see you arrive so quickly. We have almost driven the- orcs away. Ho hoom…" At the mention of the orcs, Treebeard looked utterly disgusted. 

"Come. The others are waiting." He strode off back through the gate as they caught up with him. They followed and surveyed Isengard. 

It was terrible. There were orcs laying everywhere and their black blood shrivelled the grass. Trees were burning everywhere. Remains of small settlements and ents were strewn over the ground, and fires erupted from them. Some of the other ents went up in flames completely. It was a horrid sight to watch. The hobbits shielded their eyes from the battle and Gandalf commanded the Riders of Rohan to help. Eomer sent some Riders back to Rohan to fetch King Theoden and Lady Eowyn. Legolas, Aragorn, Boromir and Gimli went to help too. The rest hid themselves in what was left of the greenery. Soon three riders were seen in the distance. 

There rode King Theoden, the Lady Eowyn and Eomer. They dismounted. 

"Greetings, King Theoden and the Lady." Gandalf bowed. 

"Ah, Gandalf," Theoden replied, "Good to see you..." 

Eowyn nodded.

"We must see Saruman." Gandalf was grim. 

"Yes, so we must, so we must." 

The rest of the fellowship joined them again and they advanced slowly to Orthanc. The three hobbits cowered and Sam muttered to himself sadly. 

They came to the entrance. Gandalf pushed the stone doors open heavily and the fellowship went inside. They climbed a set of steps and came to a shadowed room. In the midst of it was something on a stand, covered with a cloth. Saruman was sitting, staring into it, muttering in an enchanting but harsh language. 

"Saruman!" Gandalf spoke clear, and his voice was cold. This alarmed Pippin very much, who jumped and hid behind Gimli. 

"So you have come." That voice. "He said you would be here," 

"Who! Who said that?" Legolas started. 

"Fools!" Saruman cackled, "Can you not guess?" 

Aragorn stifled a gasp. 

"Saruman, why have you done this?" Gandalf asked sternly. Saruman looked up sharply. 

"Why?" He snarled, "Why! I have joined Sauron now. You know that." 

"So you have then." Gandalf sounded amused. "And what has become of your staff?" 

"My staff?" Saruman snarled again, "What has this got to do with my staff?" 

"This." Gandalf held his own staff up, "Saruman, I HEREBY announce that you are banished from the white council." 

Saruman's eyes widened in fury. 

"Your staff is broken!" Saruman's staff snapped in two immediately. 

"What?" He was aghast. Then his expression turned to a sickening smile. 

"I'll make sure your hobbit friend never sees the light of days again. Now go!" 

Everyone's eyes were wide with fear for Frodo, and Sam started wailing pitifully. Merry put a comforting arm around his shoulder and they walked out, thanked Eomer, mounted their horses and rode off as the sun rose. Had they have watched more carefully, they would have seen a large figure dragging a smaller one out of Isengard…

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Sorry for the only relatively small appearance of Eowyn and Eomer. They will definitely have some part to play later on though :)


	10. An Unfortunate Escape

Hello, my friends! Second Chapter's up longer than I expected! (Anyway, I'll stop talkin'. Here it is!)

Oh and also something. I've revised this, you know, shuffled the chapters a little and that. It still says the same thing, I haven't made any changes there, but I've merged two chapters into one etc. Hope you don't mind!

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Frodo rose painfully on his elbows and stared around into the gloom. Where was he _this_ time?

He tried crawling forward a little, but hit his head between two steel bars and yelled in surprise, a hand flying to his throat, because the burning sensation was still there. He felt along a little, and realised he must be in the dungeons of Orthanc; a perilous place, or so he was told by Gandalf.

He sat back and rubbed his sore head thoughtfully, as his eyes gradually became accustomed to the darkness, and he could make a feint outline of the bars now, but nothing beyond that; thank god he was not afraid of the dark, as little Pippin was.

He suddenly remembered, and with dread, felt around the chain frantically about his neck, and sighed uneasily with relief; he could see a slight glint of the One Ring, and could feel it hanging coldly there. 

He squeezed his eyelids together quickly as someone (or something) lit a match on the other side of the bars, directly ahead, and lit a small beacon. 

Frodo sat back and covered his eyes with his hands, peering through them when his eyes came a little more used to the fiery glow that wreathed around itself before him.

Orli was there. 

It amused him to see two large, almost unworldly blue eyes peering fearfully at him. They almost glowed by the firelight, Orli thought.

"Glad you have decided to return to us, my friend," he smiled, and Frodo stared warily at him; the fire created uneasy shadows under Orli's eyes, and if he were just a little more unaware of his surroundings, he could have mistaken him for an orc.

"Friend?" he spluttered, gathered his senses after the fright.

"Hm," Orli leaned lazily back in the chair and slid the beacon into a holder beside him, while Frodo sat up properly, attempting to regain his calmness and sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Orli raised his eyebrows, "He tried to take it," he said lightly, as if it did not matter, as Frodo stared upwards in shock, "Yep. It's true. But your little friend there," Orli continued, meaning 'friend' as the ring, "Made you er… fit."

"It what?" Frodo said, confused.

"Fit." Orli leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees.

Frodo raised his eyebrows at himself. Why would he fit because someone attempted to disturb the ring? It slowly dawned on him that he was becoming attached to it. Time was running out, but he was disturbed from his state of thought as Orli rummaged in his pack.

"Here," he said, and passed something through the bars; it looked much like a flask, and Frodo took it gingerly.

"It's not going to bite!" Orli snorted.

"What is it?" Frodo turned the flask around, fearing that it was another kind of burning liquid, feeling his throat painfully as he remembered.

"_Miruvor_, my friend," Orli said again, exasperated.

Frodo remembered; that was the liquid Gandalf gave us as they fought upon Caradhras, he thought. He wondered what had happened to Gandalf's body, he thought with a horrible sinking feeling, and he took a sip of the _miruvor_ gratefully. 

It cooled his throat soothingly, and he felt a little of his strength and energy return, neither did he feel so sick anymore; if not he realised he felt a little hungry. He realised he had not eaten in days. He shrugged as he saw his pack a few feet away from him, and offered the miruvor back to Orli through the bars, but Orli refused.

"You carry it," he simply said, "It is heavy, and it's no use to me either."

Frodo crawled over to his pack, and rummaged for some of the _Lembas_ he had stored in there, and slid the flask of _miruvor_ lovingly next to his water bottle. 

He found the _Lembas, _still in it's silver casing, and munched on a little of it, relieved, and it consumed some of his hunger. He did not feel hungry; he had just had the miruvor, and he had since filled his water bottle at Amon Hen, so it was still about three-quarters full.

Orli coughed warningly, and Frodo quickly put everything back in his pack, and looked up to see Orli now standing and fiddling with the lock holding the bars together.

"What are you doing?" Frodo asked.

Orli pushed exasperated at the lock, and to his triumph, they pushed open unsteadily, and he stood inside the dungeon, eyeing his handy-work for a moment, and folding his arms. He then glanced at Frodo and swiftly picked him up and threw him over his shoulder, as Frodo just managed to grab his pack in time out of panic.

"Where are we going?" Frodo whispered, terrified, clinging tightly to his pack in one hand and Orli's travel-stained cloak with the other.

Orli did not answer, but he stamped the torch out and continued, climbing upwards on winding stairs with no banister to steady himself. Frodo looked before him, and discovered only murky blackness below him and shivered, and imagining him tumbling forwards, being lost forever in dark dreams of death.

Frodo shook his head as if to drive the thoughts away, as Orli pushed open a door wildly and backed against the wall, crushing Frodo behind him, but he didn't seem to care what he was doing to the hobbit.

In his pain Frodo heard heavy footsteps advancing towards them down the corridor. He could hear Orli cursing as he realised there was no where to hide; stealing a prisoner suffered a heavy penalty.

Orli crouched in the shadows, while Frodo winced as he pushed him further into the wall, hardly being able to breathe, and he heard someone, or _something_ for that matter, grunting past, shuffling along. He craned his neck and turning his head, he saw the outline of two Uruk-Hai passing, speaking in their own dialect.

Orli sighed and swiftly darted on through a maze of dark, stuffy corridors until light hit Frodo's face again. They were coming quietly down a staircase, and they heard Saruman's voice drawing close.

Frodo realised that if Saruman heard anything or spotted even a shadow, it would result in grave danger. Orli, was apparently thinking the same thing, and leaned back into the wall, sidling down the door.

A voice drew particularly close, and he threw himself against the wall again. Frodo was crushed, and unfortunately, there someone had hammered a nail or something into the wall and it stabbed right into his collarbone. Frodo jumped and stifled a small cry, shaking heavily as he attempted to bear the excruciating pain that erupted from his neck.

And every voice stopped. 

Orli sighed in anger and elbowed Frodo painfully in the side for letting their whereabouts become known. They heard more footsteps advance slowly towards them. An Uruk-Hai appeared around the corner, and stared.

But there was nothing there.

It turned savagely, about to give word to it's waiting master. But something pounced out of a shadow, and killed it ferociously, slitting its throat. Saruman yelled in surprise as the shadow went back and, carrying something struggling under its arm, stole out of the door before anyone could attack.

Saruman flew to the door in pursuit, and aimed his staff, sending a jet of light after it. But it was gone.

"Orli has gone!" Saruman cried to the creatures behind him, "He must not get away with the halfling! Launch a search! Scour every plain! He must not escape!"

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Elementary, my dear friends!

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Iaur: Hmph. Iaur mean. Make Orli go to his room, you will not. I make him. (By the way, nice review!)

Ash N Brock: I don't know what's going to happen to Frodo ;) you'll just have to find out, won't you? I'm glad you like Frodo angst. I like it too ;) I'll stop winking now. ****

Tiggivon: Tiggivon! How are you? Great to hear from you again, as always. Your reviews are always encouraging, and it gives me a real kick out of reading them. Some more unexpected twists will be raging in the next chapters, I assure you, just for your enjoyment! (And everyone else usually, but they don't seem to find the unexpected twists very unexpected) See ya!


	11. An Arrow Astray

Hi!!! So sorry for keeping you all waiting so long (sob) so sorry!!! Anyway, here's your chapter. Like to say thanks to EVERYONE who reviewed again, ya'll so nice!

"Hurry up!"

Frodo jumped out from a tangle of thorns and stumbled behind a mutated, deadened tree trunk, with branches sprawled like spikes across it. Orli took hold of Frodo's cloak and dragged him down to kneel beside him.

A harsh voice was heard not far in the distance. Frodo and Orli crouched down, and saw many pairs of clumsy feet stamp into the ground and work up shards of dust. Frodo leaned forward, a tickle in his throat, but Orli soon reminded him of his whereabouts by hitting him painfully across his back.

They travelled by foot for many miles. Frodo stumbled across many wastelands, and was dragged through streams and foliage until his head lolled forward with fatigue; it was as if his body toiled by itself, when his mind was resting in a dark numbness.

In time, even Orli had felt weariness, and they both crouched in the trees as the day was choked by night. Frodo had just settled against the prickly roots of a tree on squelching mud when he felt a sharp elbow in his shoulder.

"_Hey!_" a voice hissed near to him, "_get behind the tree, and for god's_ _sake halfling keep it quiet!_"

Frodo was about to ignore him, but he suddenly heard light footsteps not far from him. His eyes snapped open and he threw himself behind a bush, up to his waist in marshland, just as voices could be heard.

They were clear, melodious voices, and they spoke in a tongue that Frodo recognised but did not understand: _Elvish._

"Mani nae tanya?" (What was that?)

"Mani nae mani?" (What was what?)

Orli moved in alarm when he realised that they were talking about them. The footsteps had stopped.

"Tanya! Dina!"(That! Be still!)

"Amin uuma-" (I don't-)

"Tula sinome!" (Come here!)

The footsteps drew closer and closer... and stopped just yards of the tree on the other side. Frodo crouched low with fear, Orli with apprehension.

"Amin uuma-" (I don't-)

Suddenly, Frodo was suddenly thrown to the side. Orli jumped up, glanced at the elves staring wide in surprise at them, picked up Frodo heavily and started sprinting throw the tangling trees. Frodo, in his panic, squirmed violently, and Orli let him fall to the ground before running for his own life; the elves were following.

Frodo picked himself up and scrambled after Orli. Through many bushes and trees they thought their way through, but Frodo's legs felt like lead and in his panic, he had felt a wave of nausea and fatigue swarm over him and he began to slow down.

Orli noticed this and snatching at the hobbit's cloak, he dragged him on. Frodo wearily looked back as he stumbled. He could hear the elves chase in hot pursuit, and he felt sure that more elves had joined them. He felt utterly terrified, to think what would happen if they were captured. 

__

They could take the ring.

An arrow whistled past him. Many more followed. They had to duck and run from side to side constantly so that they would not get hit. They heard the shouts from behind them get a little more distant and they slowed down a little. Orli was getting a little tired anyway, so they would stop and hide soon. 

__

Big mistake.

Frodo knew it would happen. It always did anyway...

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"Oh for... DAMN THIS!" he heard someone kick something to his left and yell in pain almost instantly. He could hear a fire crackling somewhere, and felt warmer.

Frodo was lying on his stomach; a throbbing pain where his Morgul wound was, in his shoulder. His head was turned painfully to the left, and he was shaking violently, perhaps not from the cold though.

"Orli?" he tried to say, but it was barely a whisper.

As soon as Orli heard it, he jumped down onto his knees and peered at Frodo's face. _Why does he look so alarmed?_ Frodo thought, _what is wrong with me? And why does my shoulder hurt this bad?_

"He's alive," was all Orli said blankly. Frodo pondered over this for a moment. He tried to push himself up, "Hey! You're going nowhere!" said Orli suddenly, and he pushed him back down to lay on the ground and went out of sight.

Frodo frowned. Then he saw his left hand and touched it gingerly. The swelling from his wrist had gone considerably down in those past few days, but still it was painful. But his hand, his whole left arm even, was cold, pale and limp; it almost looked completely white in the shadows, but his fingers were touched a sickly, dull light blue colour. 

Streaks of blood were sliding down his arm, and his shoulder was agony. _The glistening blood was his._ Frodo reeled from the shock. He turned his head painfully upwards, and saw an arrow upright in his shoulder. He suddenly felt dizzy as he heard footsteps back.

"What happened?" he whispered shakily as he watched the blood trickle and stain his cloak.

"You were hit," Orli said, as he knelt beside him again, carrying his pack, "But I have found something to dress it with."

Frodo trembled as he felt Orli placed his hands on his shoulder, lifting his cloak up carefully as not to disturb the arrow. He covered Frodo waste down with it. He saw then that his waistcoat and shirt were completely soaked with scarlet, and his shoulder had started shaking by itself and had also started to turn a sickly light blue colour.

"Now lie still," he heard Orli say, and watched with paralysing horror, hands grasp the arrow, he tried to struggle, to sit up, but Orli pushed him back down and grasped the arrow again. Frodo's eyes widened in shock as he saw Orli do this, and with gut-wrenching agony Orli ripped the whole arrow clean out of Frodo's sobbing body.

Frodo almost screamed as the agony tore through his body, lingering in his fingertips. He clenched the soil below him, and bit his lip so hard that he could taste coppery blood in his mouth.

He felt Orli put something in the wound to stop it infecting, and closed his eyes together tight as a wad of bandaging was pressed onto the wound to stop it bleeding and bandages were quickly bound about it. Orli kept pressing on the wound, to stop it from bleeding, forcing Frodo to endure such terrible pain throughout that he almost fainted from physical torment and his good waistcoat was almost completely scarlet in colour.

Orli rolled him over to lay beside the fire, resting his arm higher than the rest of his body to drain the blood from it and gave him a mouthful of _miruvor _to serve as a painkiller.

"We will have to keep travelling tomorrow, and you have no excuse not to go," Frodo distantly heard him mutter as he drifted into unconsciousness, lying on his side while his shoulder was bound with bandages some more, "Tomorrow, it is through the Dead Marshes."

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Please excuse the elvish- I'm an elf only in training!

Tiggivon: Your reviews make me so happy!!! Thanks for reviewing ME: The Faculty. That's a great laugh writing that!

Samus: Priceless?!! Is that a compliment? ::evil smile:: Thankyou! You're very kind!

Galadriel Greenleaf: You scare me! (Compliment) I'm aaaaalways mean to Frodo ::evil cackle:: but, maaaaaybe I'll tone it down a bit, I dunno. Ak! Dying of suspense to read your stories! Thanksh!

Tathar: Here it is!!! And keep 'Always a Silver Lining Up'. The suspense is painful! And yeah, I updated the chapters :)

Princess of Mirkwood: Thanks for reviewing, and thanks for reading! :D

Easterlily41482: Hell yeah, torturing Frodo's what I do! I know, I do so love adding Orli and Lij to the torture-y fun! Makes it more… interesting… ::cackle::

Mr. Frodo: Great name :D but why are you laughing? You laughing at my work??! HOW COULD YOU!!! ::silence:: actually, it's pretty funny when you think about it… teehee… I'll stop being insane now. Thanks

Normal Human Being: YAY! Love the name!!! And yes, llamas are such a gooood idea... excellent... you might see one of the elves' pet llama standing by the side of them if you look close enough! ::evil smile:: thanks!

Thanks for all the reviews guys, they practically give me the will to write!


	12. The Dead Marshes

Hello hello hello hello hello!!! (smile) Update is... right on schedule! 

One of the few good times... probably wrote it now because I was somewhat intrigued myself to see what is going to happen. I mean, I'm on pretty thin ice at the moment, because if I torture Frodo _that _much it'll just become a full-fledged hobbit attack and I'll completely fly of the rails and all the careful thinking will be RUINED! (Wail) Ruined for all eternity! Now messages...

Tathar: Yeah, I almost had to stop writing because I felt my baby's (i.e. Frodo) pain! But, this is Frodo torture, is it not? And that's what I do best, is it not? (Thick posh English accent) Ooh-de-lallying wizzo! Thanks!

Tiggivon: I know, I was so happy when Stolen Lives was FINALLY updated! And yeah, I agree about Frodo's fate. Everything seems to happen to him. Oh well. On with the torture! :) Thanks for yet another encouragingly happy review! 

Anyway, without further ado… (smile) here is your chapter!

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Frodo slept fitfully that night. His shoulder pained him, like it once did once before when he was passing into the shadow world; a constant reminder, was the pain, and sometimes it brought back to him rushes of those feelings. 

Once, in fatigued exasperation, he had looked over at his now bare shoulder, save for the material bound across his stinging wound. He caught a glimpse of his Morgul wound as he fidgeted. 

It was burning, almost boiling to the touch, and Orli had said that this was because such good had touched a reminder of evil. Frodo shuddered at the thought and the irony that his shoulder was evil. 

But anyway, it was dawn, and now he good not sleep. He was turned towards the fire: the dying embers hissed as once again he opened his heavy eyelids again, and sighed, wincing at the pain that simple gesture had brought him. He heard Orli stir somewhere behind him, and a shuffle.

"Frodo?" a voice heard behind him. Frodo murmured in reply, and turned his head to look behind him. Orli said he was making sure that Frodo was awake, and hurriedly sorting his possessions into his pack. 

Once more, he commanded Frodo to sit, and when Frodo ceased to do so, Orli sat him up by force. Only once did Orli feel pity for the halfling; when he pushed Frodo's head forward to life his back, he saw that Frodo's eyes were wide in a silent scream, and that was only once, that he felt pity. 

He realised that he had been slightly hard on the hobbit. After all, he had just been speared with an arrow. Orli sighed, _"Lle anta est,"_ he mumbled, and because Frodo was a little dependant at the time, spooned some _Miruvor_ into him, and let him sleep for a few more hours.

This time, Frodo slept peacefully, and upon awakening found that it felt easier to breathe, and he could sit by himself.

"Where are we going?" he asked as he surveyed Orli gathering his things together once again.

"We're still travelling- remember?" --_of course,_ Frodo thought, _he never changes. Always the same, cold stare. Same, cold voice._

"But where to-" Frodo felt another stab of pain down his left arm, cutting off the rest of his words.

Orli thought for a moment. That was a good point. At last, he replied.

Through the Dead Marshes._ What in eru's name was the Dead Marshes? _

Suddenly, while Frodo was deep in thought, he saw something that made his blood run cold. In the midst of the nearby foliage, with burning green fire in the centre, was a pair of eyes...

"Orli!" Frodo hissed, digging his nails into the dirt and moving sideways, away from the staring beings. Orli had seen them too. He nodded in knowing and crept away, into the shadows, to catch the beast upon surprise.

__

No, Frodo suddenly though,_ no he mustn't do that! _In Frodo's horror, the eyes blinked and narrowed dangerously. Then a spidery creature leapt out and bounded towards Frodo in shocking speed.

"Orli!" Frodo yelled, "ORLI!"

For he knew perfectly well that Gollum had been following. __

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"GET THE ERU OFF OF ME, YOU-" Frodo kicked and struggled, but Gollum clasped his clammy fingers across Frodo's throat and shook him, back and forth continuously. Frodo thought furiously in blind panic, as he was pressed closer and closer to the steaming wood of the embers of the fire.

As Gollum pushed him closer and closer, Frodo's struggling began to cease, and he let himself be dragged closer and closer...

"Nassssty hobbitsessssss... take oursss precioussssss, birthday present. Yesssss..." Gollum disgusted Frodo, croaking in his slimy throat.

Suddenly, Frodo broke free and spinning round, ignoring the fire in his shoulder, Frodo unsheathed Sting savagely and turned to face the creature, just as Orli leapt out of the bushes nearby and ran towards them.

"What in hells name-" he cursed as he went straight past them, content on Frodo scaring Gollum into stillness with Sting, and dug from his pack a coil of Elven rope.

"Nasssssty hobbitsesssss... nassssty men... take ours preciousss!" Gollum sneered, but Frodo adamant.

"QUIET Gollum, or I'll cut your throat!" Gollum startled when he saw the blade glinted as the sun was steadily rising.

Orli crept up behind him, and took hold of Gollum's foot and hastily tied the rope in a loose loop around his ankle.

"No!" Gollum screamed, and failing himself around, started clawing at the noose.

"Hm. So you don't like elvish things then?" Orli snickered. Frodo, noticing the blood beginning to seep through the binding again, sank back down by the fire, and wrapped his travel-stained cloak about him.

Orli, meanwhile, was dealing with Gollum, "I should kill you right this minute!" he snarled, "You are a vile creature, Sméagol, and you should be put down! Like he should!" he gestured to Frodo, who looked up in alarm.

"NO!" Gollum threw himself at Orli's feet, who hastily kicked him away, "DON'T hurt the precious!" he babbled insanely, his eyes flashing, "Don't hurts usss!"

"Eurgh," Orli winced as Gollum threw himself towards him again, and stepped aside so that Gollum fell on Frodo instead.

"Aah!" Frodo cried, and clutching his shoulder, fell sideways and shook, curled up in a foetal position, on the ground. Gollum shrieked and threw himself backwards again, only to be dragged forward by his foot, still bound with the rope.

"Do you know the way to Mordor!" Orli commanded, pressing his boot down on Gollum's toes. Gollum shrieked again.

"Gollum will take nice hobbitsesss and men there..." he drooled, "Gollum is nice!"

"Then swear," Orli said coldly, "Swear that you will be good as you say,"

Gollum composed himself and said seriously, "Sméagol swears on the precious." 

"No!" Orli yelled in exasperation, and kicked him once more, "But swearing the precious' life, that enables you to betray your word! Now try again!

"Sméagol," Gollum snarled, "Sméagol swears on... the-" it almost hurt him to say it, " the life of the precious that he will be good,"

"Very good," Orli said coldly, and looked across to Frodo, "Come on. You get up. We've got to go."

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They travelled threw much marshland, while Gollum led the way, babbling incoherently and still prisoner by the rope. Orli had given it to Frodo, because frankly, he said, it bored him. SO Frodo had to do it.
Soon, Sméagol stopped in the shadows. It was now evening, and Gollum had been moaning all day about the sun. Instead, they had travelled undercover of shadow, and never stopped to rest.
    
"Here it is..." he muttered, "Dead Marshes, yes..."
    They soon passed into a cave of trees, still trudged through the stinking sludge, until they came to a clearing of marshy wasteland.

Frodo saw Orli pale steadily as he stepped onto the slush. As Frodo reached it, he saw eerie white lights come into view. As he looked down, he withdrew his foot immediately. There, in the base of the marshland, there were faces. Faces of elves, faces of men, faces of orcs. All staring blankly at him. It sent cold shivers down his spine.

"Mustn't look when candles are lit," Gollum hissed, "Masters not look when candles are lit," and he crept along a line of reeds.

But Orli and Frodo could not look away from the basin of the marsh: perhaps in shock.

The faces. Proud, fair and noble faces, grim faces, sad faces and evil. All of them lay in the murky pools, with weeds in their silver and grey hair. But all are dead, foul and rotting.

"Yes," Gollum answered, "All dead. All rotten. Sméagol knows. When Sméagol was young, there was a great battle here, of Men and Elves and Orcses. Terrible battle. Horrible Elves with bows and men with swords. They fought for days at the Black Gate. But all dead now. All dead! Marshes swallowed all the bodies up. All dead!" 

Orli looked like he was going to be sick at this description. As he stepped lightly along the rushes, all the faces followed him with their empty eyes. Some of them rose in the water, followed Frodo as he fiercely pushed his eyes away from them and clutched his shoulder as it began to ache again.

But Orli could not ignore the staring black holes for eyes, like hammers had bored into the skulls of the rotting.

TO Frodo, it looked like hell had rested into Middle Earth's water. All the twisting, foul faces that were once fair haunted him. Suddenly, Orli kicked out as he felt a slimy hand curl around his foot and yelled.

"I thought you said they weren't real!" he stammered as more faces and half-bodies looked like they grouped around him as he splashed around, trying to kick them off.

Frodo felt it too, as an oozing claw found itself gripping Frodo's ankle. He panicked and fled through the water, trying not to scream. Suddenly, as he spun around, he saw a decaying body lunge forward at him. He cried and fell back into the water, shaking uncontrollably in terror. 

He felt feet around him and saw a reflection of Orli moving towards him above the water, and made the mistake of turning his head sideways. Many of the sickening heads leered at him, their rotting lips curling into sneers. Frodo's tears merged into the water, and his shoulder wound burned like fire.

He closed his stinging eyes and felt himself being lifted out of the water, his hands holding his head in distant comfort, trembling as Orli cursed the hobbit and placed him over his back.

Orli and Gollum ran through a line of reeds, thus escaping the dead marshes. Orli hoped he would never have to cross through there again.

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It was late at night when they reach firmer ground again. Frodo was still shivering from the terror, having learned that the ring gave him hallucinations, it was the ring who had made that body lunge at Frodo. Frodo felt the ring sneer at him for believing it.

They still travelled on through the night. Many a time Gollum craned his neck eastward and southward, seeming displeased or troubled. Frodo wondered what it could be, but then, he cast his mind back to the Fellowship, back to Frodo, to Sam and to Merry and Pippin.

The shadow that was over his heart lifted for a moment, and then he remembered where he was, and the shadow grew thicker once again. He curled up tightly as they at last came to rest, and fell into troubled sleep, to the sound of Gollum wheezing close by him. 

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Translation

Lle anta est – You need to rest. __

To be continued


	13. A Tragic Death

Hi! I'm so sorry for being extremely late like this. It's been almost a month! Now the story line is getting a little complicated. Now we shall go back to the rest of the Fellowship. Comments:

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Tathar: Thank you! I did have such an interesting time writing 'The Dead Marshes'. It was hard weaving the Dead Marshes in with the story line and I did so often have to refer to the books! I'm also squirming in my seat with anticipation for the next chapter of 'Always a Silver Lining'. Ak… I really can't wait, I hope you update soon!

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Tiggivon: Sorry I have to tear you away from Frodo, Orli and Smeàgol now, but I feel it's time to see what is happening to the rest of the group, now that characters from TTT have joined. Like I said, the plot is getting really complicated! But thank you so much for your wonderful and encouraging reviews. They really help at times like these!

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Ash N Brock: You'll just have to see about Frodo's freaky-deakiness on Orli! And yes, this story is more-or-less nothing BUT angst (And why do I love writing it, I wonder?) thanks!

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Normal human being: Of course… go ahead and steal as many ideas as you want. But you'll never be able to make them any better. NEVER! Muhaha! (Sorry, feeling freaky) thanks for all your reviews (worships) you're so nice!

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Luichien Greenleaf: Triumph! Mr. Greenleaf is coming right up for your pleasure… ;) I bet all the time he's screaming, 'Luichien. LUICHIEN WHERE ARE YOU?!' in his mind right now, but really he's in my bedroom cupboard talking to Elijah Wood about my clothes-hangers. Thanks about the 'really, really good' comment. Satisfying…

And I have one more thing. I'm a little concerned about how this chapter flows. Maybe I'm just nervous, but with this chapter I've really had difficulty getting the story line to work and everything. So please ignore that I you noticed it. Thanks!

And lastly, December 15t today… NEED WEDNESDAY DECEMBER 18TH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! NEED TWO TOWERS! NEED FRODO NEED LEGOLAS NEED ONE RING…preciousssssss…

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Chapter: A Tragic Death

"Boromir, keep up!" Aragorn called impatiently behind him, as Boromir lagged behind. 

"But we're being tracked, FOLLOWED, we need to fight!" Boromir yelled as he attempted to catch up with him, "We need to hold some of them off, otherwise we could be swamped with Uruk-hai!"

Aragorn ignored this, and issued the Fellowship to keep running. They were being chased, outnumbered by many Uruk-hai. They had also lost track of Frodo and Orli along the way: almost lost now, if Aragorn was not so traveled they would have lost direction completely. Now, the plan left was to make for the city of Gondor, send search groups for a last weak attempt, and if not? They would have to painfully endure for the rest of their lives the experience of neglecting a friend, condemning him to a short life of torture, and dying a slow and agonizing death. This last thought gave Aragorn a somewhat renewed determination; he would not let this happen to Frodo.

Just then, an arrow scuffed Legolas' shoulder. He ducked as one sped over his head and ran to catch up with Aragorn, "Archers, Aragorn! We cannot possibly outrun arrows!"

Aragorn does not slow, but furrows his eyebrows as he slows and looks behind him, another arrow zips past him.

"Protect the hobbits! I will take the front, Sam! Pippin! Merry, to the center, Gimli behind them, Elijah, Boromir and Legolas to the back, now move!"

A slight confusion followed as Merry, Pippin, Gimli and Sam struggled on even faster and forward. Elijah slowed until he was behind Pippin as Aragorn and Legolas slowed, turned quickly and shot arrows left and right with a great precision.

Aragorn realized there might not be as many as Boromir had made out to be; for some reason; he felt slightly relieved that the number was not as many as he had dreaded. As he turned to fire another shot, he caught a glimpse of the pained and tired look on Sam's face as he stumbled over the coarse ground. They had to stop for rest soon; otherwise the hobbits could go so far as collapse with fatigue.

"Merry!" Boromir yelled as the hobbit fell forward and tripped, his Elven broach unclasped and he unconsciously blinked there, frozen with fright. Boromir stopped and turned back, desperate to save the halfling. He picked Merry up, and almost staggered to come face to face with an orc. Desperately, he put the hobbit down, pushed him towards the Fellowship and unsheathed his sword.

"Boromir!" Legolas frantically yelled after him, to no avail; Boromir was already battling with all the strength he could muster. He had now stopped at least fifty feet behind the rest of the group; they could not stop themselves, to save their own lives they needed to run, "Boromir, no! Come back!" but Legolas could not change Boromir's mind; he was already struggling his way out of a hoard of orcs. He managed to break free once, turned and ran almost like lightning as more arrows buzzed through the air.

The fellowship ducked and glanced fearfully behind them as the small patrol of orcs came closer and closer... Legolas grew more fearful...

Suddenly...

"What the HELL are we doing?" Elijah yelled and slowed, "We can fight these! Look at them!"

The Fellowship skidded to a halt suddenly and unsheathed their swords just as they heard horses' hooves behind the orcs, who had stopped in confusion. Gandalf, King Theoden and Eowyn were to be seen riding upon mighty stallions, followed by many soldiers.

Aragorn was just staring...

"Pull yourself together, Aragorn! What good it if you just stand there?" Legolas, still holding his bow, fired a single arrow into the heart of the first orc. He fell dead.

Silence.

"ATTACK!" an orc yelled in fury and a heated battle followed. More men arrived and fought from their horses. Eowyn and Theoden drew their swords too. The hobbits were ushered into hiding; all the while Sam was thinking how they were wasting time when they could be looking for Frodo.

"Pippin!" Merry yelled as Pippin broke free and charged towards a group of orcs, "Pippin come back!"

"I've got to help Boromir!" he yelled and drove his sword a little into an orc's leg. The orc thrashed about and Pippin was almost knocked sideways, but as the orc fell, he jumped upon him and stabbed him in the face.

Pretty triumphant he looked towards the group and his expression changed to sheer horror.

"Aragorn. ARAGORN! GANDALF! ELIJAH! GIMLI! MERRY!" Pippin screamed and burst into tears. Aragorn kicked an orc into a dead one and drove his sword through his stomach, then running towards a screeching Pippin.

Gandalf stumbled through the wreckage to see the sight that filled every man's eyes with shock and he turned pale and bowed his head. Legolas shoot the remaining orc and turned.

"BOROMIR!"


	14. Dreams Disturbed

A/N: Thanks to you all for being so patient with this thing… I updated on December 15th! It's been so evil over this Christmas… but evil in a good Christmas way. Anyhow, the next chapter, I promise will be in approx. a week because I haven't made a final decision on where this is gonna go so… hope you enjoy this one!

Today, I went to see TTT again; THREE TIMES NOW!! Since December 18th! What's that, 12 days? On average, I've seen LotR:TTT every four days yahargh!

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Normal human being: Yeah well, I like the way you steal my ideas! ;) don't go a-stealing too many now (can hear normal human being's far-off cackling) I said… DON'T go stealing too many! Have you seen TTT yet?

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Tiggivon: You're too kind you know… can't wait for this new story! (Bangs head against the wall a couple of times) How devoted can you get? It can be scary… ak… you can't review so you email me what you think? That is so touching, I forgot to tell you, but thanks SO MUCH!!

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Luichen Greenleaf: You better bet it's intense… so intense that it's over-tense! But perhaps this chapter is to your liking more (Even though it doesn't have the oh-so-gorgeous Legsie in it!) Will Frodo be okay? I dunno, you tell me ;) will he be okay?

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Chapter 14: Dreams Disturbed

"Frodo… Frodo…"

Frodo awoke painfully to find himself in a totally different world; he was lying on a bare, sandy plain. Everywhere around him was totally pitch black; there was nothing in sight, only bitter fumes that stung his eyes and made him feel suffocated, and a murky, grey sky swirling with storm clouds. Voices beckoned him and whispered his name all around him.

"Frodo… Frodo…"

The whispers; there were some in Elvish, some in Dwarfish, some that he did not know of. But there was one clear above all the rest. Strangely tempting, it's hoarse mutter almost drove Frodo's mind to insanity; he wanted to run, yet he was lured by its croaking manner. 

"Frodo… we need you Frodo…"

He stood in fear, clutching the hilt of Sting, and walked forward a few paces. The voice seemed to be coming from his right. He felt strangely calm, and walked towards it.

"We need you Frodo… join with us, halfling of the Shire…"

With a strange light in his eyes, he stopped and began to reach a hand out-

"PRECIOUS! MY PRECIOUS IS LOST!" screamed in his ear. He dropped Sting and fell to his knees, covering his ears, anything to stop-

Suddenly, he felt icy fingers clasp around his neck, strangling- he felt on the floor for Sting, and clasping the hilt, began to hack at the dead hand at his throat. He heard a shriek and yelled, jumped to his feet and ran blindly through the darkness.

"FRODO!"

A shadow loomed in front of him, bearing the face of an uncloaked Nazgùl. Frodo fell backwards, hitting his head hard against the stony ground. A pain of burning fire spread through him and he cried out in agony. Gasping for breath in vain, inhaling poisonous smoky fumes instead, he fearfully saw the Nazgùl draw a sword: a Morgul Blade, foul and glinting.

Frodo went to crawl backwards, but the Wraith stepped on his cloak and mercilessly stabbed him viciously deep into his left shoulder. Frodo very-well near screamed in his torment, feeling the black blade scald his skin, feeling boiling blood seep out as the sword pierced the skin on his back and jolted right out onto the other side, into the ground. 

The face of the Nazgùl changed, but changed to Orli's, screeching and laughing. Frodo feel almost unconscious with the feeling as the sword slowly began to dissolve, and the Nazgùl retreated and disappeared into the dark.

Frodo moved his right hand to his shoulder and tried to stem the blood flow, as all silence fell around him. The ground had suddenly become soft and moving, as if living things were slithering under it. A rotting body rose out of the ground, thrashing, throwing itself at Frodo.

As the creature advanced, Frodo sank back into the mud, sinking deep beneath the ground. He dared to open his eyes; he saw rotting faces of elves, men and orcs around him, and dared to scream.

  
"FRODO!" Frodo yelled and sat up sharply, clutching his shoulder. Orli sat crossed legged a few feet, head in his hands as Gollum crouched somewhere to the left of him, probably chewing something disgusting.

"Goddammit halfling!" Orli furrowed his brow in exasperation and shook Frodo by his shoulders; "Do you want to get us killed?"

Abruptly, the hobbit burst into tears and began sobbing into his cloak, his shoulders shaking in grief. Orli stared in shock for a while, just watching the halfling's shoulders.

"Hey, little guy…" Orli tried, but Frodo sat up and stared at him widely with a strange light in his eyes, something clasped in his wrist.

"…What are you hiding?" Orli asked suspiciously. The hobbit did not reply, "What are you hiding. Show me it now!"

Orli grew even more bewildered as Gollum slowly crawled over, with another strange green light in his eyes, muttering to himself. Frodo held out the ring, staring at it almost religiously. Gollum stretched a twisted hand out, slowly, whispering and muttering to himself slyly, edging his fingers toward the ring-

"FRODO!" Orli yelled in shock as Frodo sprang forward toward Gollum snarling, unsheathing sting, pulling Gollum's head back and pressing the blade onto his neck, "LEAVE IT!" he barked, "This is Sting. You've seen it before, HAVEN'T you!" Frodo paused; staring at Gollum disgusted as he started to whimper, feeling the rawness of the blade against his throat. "Don't you dare take it. It's MINE!" Frodo went on dangerously, "Or I'll cut your throat…"

"Frodo!" Orli said angrily, standing up fiercely, "sit down! Leave the pathetic thing alone!"

Frodo snapped his head towards Orli, but retreated, and slumped back down, his hand clasped around the ring, sweating and closing his eyes.

Orli stared at a shocked Gollum for a while, wondering what could have made the creature do what he did. Orli looked east toward the ever-closer mountain of fire, then up at what remaining sun there was; the sky was growing ever darker.

"Enough rest," Orli went on, bending down to get his pack and to shake Frodo from sleeping again, "It's time we went."

Frodo arose shakily, grasping the small pack and clambering to his feet.

Gollum sprang along a small path between the sour bogs, "Come, marshes are ending! Soon we will be at Black Gate. Hurry, nasty moon could be out any minute!"

Three figures discreetly disappeared into the shadow, as a feint, but yellow moon wove itself into a bitter black sky.

To be continued


	15. Noxious Ways

A/N: Greetings! This chapter isn't exactly on schedule, but I'm writing the next one as we speak so it will probably be a little early than expected. I very well hope you enjoyed the last chapter of mad Mr. Frodo! Poor him… I should cut down on the torture and all (thinks for a moment) Nah. It would be boring… and everyone needs Frodo/general hobbit angst. There should be a technical, proper term and even a category for 'general hobbit angst' (sigh) that'll be the day.

I hope indeed that you will notice of the description of Minas Morgul. I chose this description (following Tolkien's description, Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers Book Four, The Stairs of Cirith Ungol) because I intend to stay true to some of the deeds of Frodo and Sam in the books. It makes one feel like a traitor if one ignores the books completely from the point of Amon Hen! And, hopefully, this will give you a chance to pick up from where Orli, Frodo and Gollum are, to as whereabouts be Sam, Frodo and Gollum in the chapter. 

And another thing, this chapter covers a hell of a lot so I hope you don't get lost anywhere! (I needed to speed things up a tad)

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Normal Human Being: Gollum is the best 'vile-creature' there ever was, but I wouldn't say he was a god. More of a 'supreme being'. Gems? Did someone say gems? Can I have gems? 

Ash N Brock: Fido's a nasty piece of work, isn't he just?! My side-kick Elijah Jordan Wood is in the cupboard as we speak talking to my Frodo doll about my coat hangers. And my yappy little other-sidekick Frodog is sitting on my head. He's warping my miiiind!! Glad ya liked the chapters. ****

Curly29: Why, Orli scaring ya? ;D

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Luichen Greenleaf: It's scary how fast you review, you know! (Shivers in the corner and adopts a face that looked a little like this 0_0) don't worry, we will see Legolas in the next chapter or so, I promise you!

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Tiggivon: Okay :D and a happy New Year to you too! (excuse the lateness!)

Chapter 15: Noxious Ways 

"Here it is, precious, here it is!" Gollum crawled to a verge and sprang down onto the edge of a plain. Orli and Frodo staggered behind him, tired through due to the miles and miles covered without rest overnight, "Dagorlad! Make haste, hurry, Easterlings, yes, Easterlings pass!" and bounded forward like a spider.

Despite their haste, they went around the field of Dagorlad, intending to pass the guards of Morannon unnoticed. As Frodo cast his eyes toward the Black Gate of Mordor, he saw tiny armies of Easterlings cut across the plain.

"Where now does he ask us, precious, where now do we take master? To the gates, precious?" Gollum crouched low and hunched his shoulders, looking over to where the Black Gate of Mordor was.

"No. Not to the Gates, our presence will be taken into account. Is there another way round, Smèagol?"

Gollum's eyes strangely flickered with a new light, "There is one. Orcs don't use it much, we calls it- Cirith Ungol, yes, that is the name… precious… my dear, that is the name!" He blinked to himself a couple of times as if to not believe his luck, but to his fellow travellers it was only a flashing thought. 

Orli stared at Gollum curiously as he started shivering, looking almost shaken with excitement, "A long stair," Gollum went on, "A winding stair, and then… a long, dark tunnel. We escaped from Cirith Ungol, yes we did, precious…"

They trudged on round Dagorlad and rested during what would be daylight hours. They then passed into North Ithilien, every so often having to duck down in fear of being discovered by orcs, or even troops of men that were seen marching to Osgiliath. Once, they came upon a gloomy, yet beautiful place as a pale moon rose. "Henneth Annûn, Window of the Sunset" Orli explained a little impatiently as they stood in front of a small trickle of a fountain, "When the sun sets, the shafts of red light shine upon the water and make it come alive with dancing jewels of rubies, sapphire and gold. Men visit this often, we should leave now" and he turned and marched away, leaving Frodo somewhat confused and mortified that he was.

After that, Orli seemed a little more reserved and just listened as Gollum babbled and muttered to himself. Many a time Frodo thought he heard Gollum speak about 'her'; it made him wonder who 'she' was. Every so often, when he did, a strange light would pass in his eyes, a light very similar to when Gollum tried to take the ring from him. Frodo suddenly felt a spasm of hatred toward the creature. How dare he! Trying to take his ring, his own ring, and his precious...

"Make haste!" the creature spluttered as he stopped to sniff at the air once or twice, "We will soon be at the stairs!"

The stairs… the long stair, the winding stair and the tunnel. How could a passing be so 'unnoticed', as Gollum had said? How could such a passing have no presence to those who lived in this land?

Presently, they came close to Osgiliath. It was perhaps some leagues away, but even at such a distance smoke could be seen fuming closely about it. Frodo suddenly sneezed loudly, feeling the sudden coldness chill him to the bone. At the sudden noise, Orli almost jumped out of his skin, and realising who it was a swearing loudly at him, he cuffed Frodo hard around the back of the head, and Frodo felt a slight spasm of pain travel down his neck.

As he held his hand up to the back of his head and looked up, he felt the coldness again. This time, it was more than chilling, and as he turned to the east, he saw what looked like dragons flying his way, "Winged Nazgûl!" Orli hissed and pushed Frodo to the ground, cursing as Gollum sprawled himself upon the dry earth whining.

"Shut up!" Orli elbowed Frodo hard in the ribs as he started to gasp on hearing the shrieking. He coughed slightly, and lay on his back, watching the Nazgûl flying directly above him, in terror.

His hand slowly began to crawl its way to the ring. Frodo's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed the ring from hand to hand, tracing its fine gold outline. "He is calling for it!" Gollum whispered to Orli in terrified babble, "he is calling for the precious!" and twisted his arms and head together to bury his face.

Orli frowned at the sight of Frodo in this way, but saw that he was inches from putting the ring on. He grabbed the hobbit's wrist and dragged it away from the ring as he heard it whisper and sigh, pinning Frodo's arm awkwardly to the floor and placing his elbow on it so he couldn't move. Frodo wretched a couple of times and Orli had to push a rag into the hobbit's mouth to stop him from coughing.

Presently, the Nazgûl passed over their heads and headed for the wreath of smoke that was Osgiliath. Gollum leapt to his feet, "Make haste!" he cried, and said "Make haste, we must be moving" as he continued.

He turned and went to make a leap but was violently pulled back by strong hands, "Wait, Smèagol!" Orli uttered. Gollum went to open his mouth to object but Orli was firm, "Just wait!" he sighed angrily.

He knelt beside Frodo and sat him up a little sharply, whispering angrily in his ear, "For the-- halfling, hold your tongue and don't get our throats cut! Come on, stand up!" and he shook the hobbit by the shoulders lightly, to wake him out of the trance he had fallen into.

Frodo managed to stand shakily to his feet but almost halted instantly and gasped. Orli let go of he arm and let him sink to the ground, releasing a sigh of exasperation, "Frodo, what is it now?"

Frodo stood there for a moment and his eyes widened in horror, "He's calling for it, he's calling for the Ring, his eye is almost on me!" Frodo looked up at the man fearfully just as his ears had a feeling that they were losing their hearing. He saw Orli utter fast words to him and heard no sound, except the dull thudding of his rising heartbeat and a curious whisper about him, in a fiery tongue that he could neither make out nor understand. Soon, the feeling passed, sound returned to him but his body was swamped by an overwhelming desire to sleep, and he crumpled to the floor.

Orli stared at this shivering wreck on the floor. For a moment he could almost see this hobbit become a cowering and even more wretched version of Gollum, and a hint of pity stirred inside him for a split second. He had forgotten that their whereabouts was in direct line of sight from the Dark Tower of Barad-dûr to Osgiliath; Sauron would be looking this way this very hour. 

The hobbit gagged upon the ground once again and a choking welled up inside his throat. Frodo turned a familiar pale shade, rolled over to with his back to the sky as he painfully new what was coming and vomited, there before them, on the ground. Gollum looked at the halfling in disgust and Orli shook his head in irritation. At last, when Frodo was done, he rolled onto his back breathless, his eyes watering. Orli once again felt pity for him. Gollum stared warily about himself for enemies and tugged on Orli's cloak, begging him to let them continue their journey but Orli stayed put, staring down at the hobbit.

"All this unclean air in Mordor," he muttered, reaching into his pack for the flask of _Miruvor, _"makes any weak-stomached being ill," he unscrewed the cap and gave Frodo a mouthful of the drink. Frodo nodded slightly in thanks and sat up gingerly, "mind you try and keep that down," he continued and pulled Frodo to his feet.

They continued on foot, Frodo dragging slightly behind so that Orli had to drag him by his hood, Gollum almost too fast for them. They stopped for rest. No one said a word. Then, as night drew its torrent over dark grey skies and they slowed their pace through tiredness once more, they came within sight of a haunting place, far beyond the nightmares of any untouched mind. A long tilted valley, a deep ravine of darkness, ran far back in the mountains. Some way within the valley's arms stood the walls and tower of Minas Morgul. Dark was all about it, earth and sky, but it was lit with light. Not of radiance, not like the splendour of the rays of Henneth Annûn. Paler indeed than the moon sick in an unsound eclipse was the light of it now, wavering, blowing like a noisome exhalation of decay, a corpse-light, a light that illuminated nothing.

"Minas Morgul," Gollum croaked and hopped forward a pace, "Soon we will be reaching the stairs, soon… not far to go, precious, not far to go!" and he ushered them forward, protruding his head forward to get a closer look at the walls. Frodo definitely hoped that it wouldn't be far to go, but he was beginning to feel the pressure of the One Ring.

He constantly felt as if he was bent double, always feeling the aftermath of a crushing blow to the back of his head. As he took each step further with Orli and Gollum towards the black towers, he felt a strange urge to turn around and crawl his way back. It was almost as if the Ring was willing him to turn around… to forget the danger and go back. It seemed like a good idea. It _did _seem like a good idea. But Frodo's thoughts were interrupted once more.

"We are here precious, we are here!"

To be continued


End file.
